Two Down
by zevie
Summary: Darry makes the rules. Soda listens... Most of the time, anyway. A Darry oneshot inspired by the WSOTTA June challenge. Set prenovel by a couple of months.


Two Down

A/N: Hey, another one-shot Darry fic inspired by WSOTTA challenge. Appreciate any comments! The ending's still a bit awkward to me, but I'm sleepy and I haven't updated anything in awhile so I'm posting anyway.

xxxx

He stumbled out of the pick-up, dropped his keys and left them there and staggered up the front porch to the door. He barely made it to the couch before falling dead asleep.

"Darry!"

His eyes snapped open at the sound of the screen door slamming. He could have sworn he'd just fallen asleep, but it'd been two when he'd gotten home and school didn't let out until a quarter to three.

He closed his eyes again and tried to sleep, but the banging in the kitchen kept bringing him joltingly back to life.

"Hey, Darry, how was work?"

Fuck off... he thought groggily, pushing himself up, but he managed not to say it out loud. "Heya kiddo, work was work. How was school?" he asked instead.

Soda grinned knowingly and handed him a cup of coffee. "Last days are always great."

Darry took a large gulp of the coffee. "Ahh, thank you God," he groaned, and downed the rest quickly.

"You're welcome," Soda said merrily.

Darry set his cup down and yawned.

"You look like you need another." Soda grabbed the mug and trotted to the kitchen.

"Where's Pony," Darry called, stretching.

"Dunno. Probably with Johnny, celebrating the end of school."

"As long as he ain't celebrating with Two-Bit."

Soda laughed shortly. The was a quick pause, and then: "His report card's on the mail table."

Darry reached over and grabbed the mail. Bill, bill, bill... he crammed them in the side of the couch. Go to hell, he though viciously at them. A second warning, a _third_ warning...

"You see the mail? Awful lot of bills," Soda said, jogging back with the coffee. He slipped, and the coffee sloshed in the cup, a couple drops hitting the ground. "Whoops. Didn't know you waxed the floor."

Darry swallowed down the burst of anger he felt. It's just coffee for Christ's sake, he told himself. He was just tired. "Didn't wax. If you'd bother to put on some shoes, instead of walking around in those damn socks..."

Soda handed him the coffee and grinned. He pulled off a sock, the bottom black with dirt. "I'm just doing my part of the cleaning up." His eyes flicked towards the pile of mail sticking up from behind the cushions. "They don't go away just cause you hide 'em, Dar."

"It's my filing system," Darry said wearily. He wished Soda would miss something, let something slide once in awhile...

He shook himself out of the funk he felt coming on and pulled Pony's report card out of the pile. Six As and a B in gym.

"He's a fucking genius."

"Yeah," Darry said, smiling. "Hey, wait, don't swear."

Soda raised and eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Maybe they oughtta put him up another grade? Give him a challenge."

"Better he stays where he is and keeps getting marks like these. You know what kind of scholarship he could swing if he pulls all As through high school?"

"And he wants to go for track!" Soda said enthusiastically. "If he does good there, I bet they'd give him money for that, too."

Darry leaned back against the couch. "Yeah..."

Soda swiped Darry's cup and took a swallow. "Looks like he might not get to go at all, unless we get those bills in order."

"Unless, _I_ get those bills in order," Darry said flatly. He stared at the ceiling. He couldn't see him, but he knew his brother was biting his lip and a tiny wrinkle had appeared in his forehead.

"Doncha wanna see my report card?"

Darry looked at Soda quickly. "I don't know. Do I want to?"

Soda handed him the envelope wordlessly. His jaw was clenched and his eyes stared determinedly into Darry's.

Darry shrugged off the challenge. He knew Soda didn't have Pony's grades and likely never would have them. He wasn't going to start a fight over something he couldn't change. He spent too much of his time arguing with Ponyboy over nothing for him to want to argue with Soda over the same.

He snapped open the envelope and scanned the contents quickly. A in auto-mechanics, no surprises there, a B in gym...

"Soda, you've failed almost every class this year!"

Soda took another swallow of coffee and made a face. "Yeah, well. I ain't Ponyboy."

Darry groaned and leaned back. Soda failing meant no more than twenty hours a week at the DX all summer, which meant he'd have to start looking for that second job. He took another swallow of coffee and grimaced. If he worked any more hours than he was now, he'd need the coffee in an IV. "When does summer school start?"

"I ain't going."

Darry looked at at him wearily. Soda's eyes burned darkly, and he had his chin thrust out dangerously... Ponyboy could be naive and uncooperative at times, but Soda was more stubborn than a mule when he thought he was right. Darry smelled an argument. He dropped his head into his hands. He didn't need another fight, and from the look in Soda's eyes, he wouldn't win the summer school debate. "Soda, you keep this up, and you're gonna end up like Two-Bit. Just turned eighteen and I doubt he's gonna be a senior next year. What'll that be - the third year he's a junior?"

Soda picked up the report card. "I ain't gonna end up like Two-Bit. He keeps on going back for kicks. Darry, I been thinking-"

"Soda, no," Darry said flatly.

"I'm sixteen, and I'm failing everything," Soda protested. "I ain't going to college; there just ain't no point, Darry."

"The point is to learn something."

"How much learning you think I did to pull those Ds?" Soda argued. "Not enough to make it worth it. I'm dropping out. It ain't worth the effort, Darry, and it sure ain't worth my time."

Darry shook his head. "Your time? You mean the time you spend cruising with Steve, or making out with Sandy? Soda, this is your life-"

"No, Darry, I mean the time I spend on the clock at the DX," Soda said sharply.

Darry stood up quickly. "Forget it, Soda. You're not dropping out."

Soda followed him into the kitchen. "If I drop out, I can work forty hours a week. I'll make double what I do now. We can use the money-"

"I got it covered," Darry said harshly.

"By the couch cushions," Soda retorted.

Darry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He dropped his cup down on the counter next to the overflowing sink. "Ain't it your turn to do the dishes?"

"Don't change the subject!"

Darry flipped the faucet on. "Soda, there ain't nothing left to discuss. Look, I know we're in a rough spot, but we'll pull through. You keep working at the DX part-time, I'll look for another job-"

"You can't work another job," Soda said exasperatedly. "You're dead on your feet from this one already." He reached over and flipped off the water. "I'm dropping out. We need the money."

"You are _not,_ Sodapop," Darry said, and flipped the water back on.

Soda was quiet for a minute. Darry scraped the flimsy sponge over a breakfast plate. He could almost feel his brother's next words before he said them.

"I already did."

Darry gripped the sponge in his fist and scrubbed harder. Damn eggs, he thought. So hard to clean off...

"Did you hear me? I'm not going back Darry. I talked to the guidance counsellor and the principal already. This is done." Soda leaned over and turned the faucet off again.

Darry put down the sponge and closed his eyes. "Call them tomorrow and change it."

"No."

His chest tightened and he took a deep breath. Don't get mad, don't get mad...

"Soda..."

"Darry, I hate it there," Soda exploded. "I ain't no good at school, like you or Pony. Quit trying to make out like I'm the same as both a you. Pony's your star student, not me."

Darry glanced at him, startled. "Soda," he said weakly. "You're smart about other things. You don't gotta be jealous..."

Soda reddened. "I ain't. I know I'm good at cars, and with people and I'm good at my _job,_ Darry."

Darry shook his head. "No, no, Soda..."

"I know it ain't the best, but it ain't the worst either," Soda continued, doggedly. "It's not like a high school diploma will get me a different job if I ain't smart enough to do it."

"You are smart, Sodapop," Darry yelled, slamming the plate into the sink. "You're just not smart enough to see how much you need that diploma." He turned around. "It'll get you places you can't go on your own."

Soda was sitting still and tense at the kitchen table. He stared determinedly at the table for a second then met Darry's eyes.

"Where'd it get you?" he said quietly.

It was almost hard to breathe naturally. Darry sat down heavily in the opposite chair and gripped the table hard. He took several deep breaths trying to calm himself. " We couldn't have stayed together if I didn't get that job right away. I didn't have a choice, Soda. You will. When you graduate, we'll have enough money that you can get some training and get a good job somewhere, something that'll support you and your family if you got one. When you graduate-"

"If I stay in school until I graduate, I'll be doing it from a different home, Darry. We're broke."

Darry closed his eyes and leaned against the table. He worked his ass off everyday to bring home enough money so that they could live in that house and eat the food they did and stick together. He worked himself until he could barely piss in a straight line he was so damn tired. He'd given up college, he'd given up _everything_ except that damn job in that damn company and it just...wasn't enough.

"You can't do it, Dar. You don't have to." Soda leaned forward, his elbows propped up against the table. "Let me help, okay?"

"i don't...want you to," Darry said haltingly. He couldn't do this to Soda. He was just a kid, a stupid sixteen-year-old kid with a job at a gas station. "You're not supposed to do this, either." He shook his head slowly. "I can't... You're not dropping out Soda, that's final."

For a split second, he thought he saw Soda smile. Then the frown was back in place, and his face set determinedly. He took a deep breath and stood up slowly.

"Darry, you might be in charge around here on paper. You might get to decide how we spend out money and who does the dishes and how late Pony can stay out on weekends, but this is my choice and there ain't nothin' you can do about it."

Darry stood up too, slamming his chair back so hard a leg snapped. "You ain't gonna throw your life away, Soda," he said, his voice rising. "You're goin' to graduate, you're going to be someone, do something, go somewhere, you've got a future..." He swallowed hard. "I'm putting my foot down, Soda."

"Darry," Soda said, agitated. "You can't. I know you think you have to bring us up good, but..." He spread his hands widely. "I'm brought up already. Mom and Dad finished me good, and don't you think that seeing them go didn't age me just as much as you." His voice was rising, too. "They raised me up to stick up for my brothers and damn it, you ain't gonna take that away from me."

Soda gripped the chair back in a white-knuckled grip. His eyes were heavy with the responsibility Darry recognized. He wished he couldn't see it.

"They raised me up to do the right thing, and from where I'm standing, the right thing is gettin' that job full-time and helping out my brothers and helpin' put Pony through school cause he belongs in there like I never did. No!" He was shouting now, shaking. "I'm doing this Darry!"

Both his hands were fisted at his side, and for all his shaking, the firm set of his jaw meant business.

"And I... I'm putting _my _foot down now." His voice cracked.

Darry stood still for two seconds, and then swore. He crossed the room in a couple of strides and grabbed Soda crushingly. "You idiot," he hissed through clenched teeth. "You fucking sentimetal...throwin' your life...I can take _care_ of us."

Soda hugged him back fiercely. "I don't need another parent, Darry. Just my brothers."

The End


End file.
